| Take me to the place where the white boys dance.
|
| Take me to the place where they run and play.
|
| My baby is gone, you might have a chance.
|
| Just take me to the place where the white boys dance.
|
| They hug in silence,
|
| As the sun sets.
|
| On their empty street,
|
| Their suspicions where they rise and hide.
|
| And then who sweeps them off she doesn’t leave.
|
| She walks inside him,
|
| pours a strong one.
|
| Put her mind at ease.
|
| It’s the calm before another storm.
|
| And the friendship’s from the whiskey to the keys.
|
| Take me to the place where the white boys dance.
|
| Take me to the place where they run and play.
|
| My baby is gone, you might have a chance.
|
| Just take me to the place where the white boys… dance.
|
| Her heart is racing.
|
| She phones a friend to say:
|
| I’m in an awful place.
|
| That fool’s been messin' round on me
|
| I’ve seen it in his eyes and on his face
|
| Hold on a minute.
|
| You’re talking crazy.
|
| Don’t be that jealous girl.
|
| Just telephone you need an hour or two.
|
| Cause we’re gonna go and change somebodies word.
|
| Take me to the place where the white boys dance.
|
| Take me to the place where they run and play.
|
| My baby is gone, you might have a chance.
|
| Just take me to the place where the white boys dance.
|
| It’s the calm before another storm…
|
| It’s the calm before another storm
|
| And the friendship’s from the whiskey to the keys.
|
| Take me to the place where the white boys dance.
|
| Take me to the place where they run and play.
|
| My baby is gone, you might have a chance.
|
| Just take me to the place where the white boys… dance. |